Left 4 Dead (2)
by acaciablueheart
Summary: The Demi-Safezone. The full Safezone. The survivors. And in between are the Infected, by the thousands. With a new Survivor (added by me) in their group, their beliefs and trust are tested, as they fight their way through the hordes.


**By the way, I DO NOT own any of these characters. Valve does, and thanks for reading my story :3**

The helicopter was right freaking over us. But it still flew away through the city smog, hauling ass with 3 other Survivors that were now safe. Mark that up to the 3rd helicopter that's seen us but blatantly ignored our cries for help. One of the other people that were up on the roof with me ran forward, waving his arms about.

"HEY!" He yelled. "COME BACK! COME BACK - ahh...he ain't coming back." he groaned and sat down.

"Well shit." a boy with a heavy Savannahite accent said while leaning against the railing. His accent turned the swear in 'shee-it'. His face looked worried, and considering his doing-it-for-a-dare personality that he showed so far, it was probably for the first time. I gave him a weak smile, the best I could do under the circumstances.

"Let's just go down." said a an with an expensive white suit. "Maybe CEDA posted a new evac center update." Almost every few days now a new poster was plastered across any virgin wall, announcing a new evacuation address to the Safezone in New Orleans, supposedly one of the last places not touched by the Virus.

"Might as well try." I said quietly. The amn who had tried to signal the helicopter got back up to his feet, glaring down at the streets. I looked down. Infected lumbered down the pavement, moaning and falling apart. It depressed me so much to see the thousands of people who had succumbed tot he Infection. For all I knew, the producer I had worked for was now Infected, or killed. I'm still surprised I haven't caught the flu, since I had been setting up the cameras in a crowded building when Savannah went to hell.

Country boy and I found weapons. He found an axe he liked and I found two pistols.

All of us had been on top of a hotel, stranded and left 4 dead by CEDA. An evac center was supposed to be here. I sighed and shook my head. Might as well introduce ourselves. Country Boy must have had the same tought.

"I'm Ellis." He said, giving a lopsided grin. Ellis was probably 18 19. Young, like me, with a dimple on his stubble-free chin and so far a cocky grin that refused to fade. He carried a MediPack on his back and two shotguns. He wore a pale yellow shirt with what looked like construction-worker overalls rolled down to his waist.

"Nick." He looked...judgemental. Weary. Nick was tall, unlike Ellis and had dark, slicked-back hair with an inkline-thin scar cut into his cheek. I had to admit, though, that he was dressed to the mark in a pure white suit with a powder-blue shirt underneath, pressed to a crease-free perfection. Nick didn't smile.

"My friends call me Coach." the bigy guy said, giving a smile as genuine as Ellis'. Coach was either bald or shaved his head, and was African. He radiated a kind of warmth and leadership that I instantly liked. He wore a tight yellow-&-lavender shirt tucked into belted pants. Maybe it was the way he held himself, or his stature, tall and strong, that I liked. We gave nods of acknowledgement.

My turn.

"Name's Rochelle." I said, giving a tired grin. I'm African-American, with dark hair plaited into two thick-to-thin Dutch braids. I wear a pink shirt, tight jeans, and boots. The left leg of my jeans are rolled up, so I could tie a bandage from my MediPack onto a long katana-blade cut made by a half-crazed, half-turned survivor I met up with on the way up here.

"Great, we know each others' names now. Can we go?" Nick complained. I loooked over to the stairs.

"Get ready, y'all." Ellis said. His smile was back, much to my relief.

The hotel was hot, but still sent goosebumps up my bare arms. Totally empty on the way up here, yet 3 other people were fighting their way through the abandoned building.

"Pain pills!" I cried, plucking a bottle from a bedside table. The label was blue, with images of herbal leaves and promises of fast-acting relief. Was it a pain reliever or a laxative? I placed it in a random loop of my belt, pleased to see how it fit perfectly.

"Why don't we just jump out the windows?" Ellis asked "Me and my buddy Keith did it. Of course, it was one floor and we broke os many bones that the doctors were, like, shocked that we-" he was cut off by Nick.

"Not the time, Ellis." he snapped.

"Okay." he shrugged. I fought the urge to laugh and looked away. Already, I liked him.

Silently, I stalked forward, quiety than Coach. A cafeteria to our right. We ran inside, then stopped. It was filled with Infected, dragging themselves across tabletops and crying. But there was food.

"LIVE OR DIE!" Ellis yelled, rushing what used to be a girl. The tone of his voice shocked the rest of us into action. My two pistols went off in a fury, burying it's bullets in it's chest. Minutes passed by and the Infected then lay at our feet, brought to the ground by us.

A team.

**So...like it so far? By the way, in the next few chapters, I will introduce a new character, and this one I actually came up with, along with another half-Survivor I invented later on. And sorry if the writing sucks, I have writers' block :/**


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